


ignorance is bliss

by PinkHydrangea



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: F/M, Sexist Language, Suggestive Themes, nothing super bad just wanna add a warning or two regardless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 21:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12826683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkHydrangea/pseuds/PinkHydrangea
Summary: It's hard, Zeke knows, to try and shield Tatiana from the things the Zofians say of her and her home.





	ignorance is bliss

**Author's Note:**

> mmm something a little heavier than what i normally write but i remembered that Tatiana is like the only Rigelian in the Deliverance (Zeke doesn't really count bc tbh he's obviously a foreigner) and that probably a lot of the soldiers in the Deliverance would have some prejudices towards her and might even resent her despite the fact that she's perfect and beautiful so. This Happened. like the tags say, some sexist language and not-very-cute-suggestive comments, but nothing that i think is unnerving
> 
> in general this is eehhhhh kinda venty bc i've been in a downcast mood lately and so this isn't really edited or anything but ignore any typos or junk u see im dying

“Can you believe the commander let a _Rigelian_ join?” is the mildest, tamest thing that Ezekiel hears the Zofians say about Tatiana. It’s always said with a sneer, a disbelieving look, and a sharp edge in their voice. It’s intended to be hurtful and spiteful, a glance down the nose at Tatiana and her nationality.

When he walks near anyone who is speaking in hushed voices, however, they stop. They clamp their jaws shut, look at the ground, and shut up. Zeke doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t want to make an uproar or start any dramatics. He only offers a pointed glare, a warning that “I am, in fact, watching and listening,” and goes off to mind his own business.

He doesn’t want to make an uproar because he doesn’t want to draw Tatiana’s attention to it. She seems oblivious of what people say about her and Rigel. At least, if she knows what people say, she doesn’t show it. She never comes back to the tent at night looking anything but chirpy and delighted to see him. If she knew what people said about her, Zeke has no doubt she would come back with tear-filled eyes, some hurt feelings, and vie for his comforting attention. He would freely give it to her, but she doesn’t seem to need it. She doesn’t know what people say, and it’s best to keep it that way.

He wishes he didn’t know about it. It takes every fiber of his being to not throw himself into the middle of the conversation and defend Tatiana, defend Rigel as a whole. Most of the Zofians are kind people, but they all have their prejudices. He hears them frequently mutter about “warmongering savages,” and he wants to snidely point out that the Zofians are the one on Rigelian soil now. But he bites his tongue, no matter how much mumbling and grumbling he hears about “devil-worshippers,” because a fight simply isn’t worth it.

“You look so tense lately,” Tatiana teases him eventually over dinner. She puts a thumb to his brow, as though trying to smooth away the perpetual creases, and smiles. “Come on, what’s the matter? You’re going to get wrinkles, and then, who knows? Maybe if you become visibly decrepit, I’ll have to up and leave!”

His lips quirk up into a smile, and he brushes her hand aside. “I’m not decrepit.”

“You’re an old man,” she shoots back.

“Don’t let Mathilda hear you call me old,” he warns. “We are about the same age, after all.”

Tatiana giggles and doesn’t notice the sharp looks a passing group give her. Zeke cups her face and pulls her attention to him with a kiss, intent on keeping it that way.

His sweet, darling Tatiana is troubled enough by the horrors of war. She’s bothered by the pain and sickness, the wounds she treats every day, the people she sometimes cannot save. So long as the mockery doesn’t become overtly personal and potentially violent, she doesn’t need to know anything. A blanket of ignorance is what is probably best, and he’ll drape it over her for as long as he is able.

It’s just another way he can protect her.

* * *

 

“I brought you a meal.”

Zeke crouches next to Tatiana in her corner of the medical tent, where she is arranging the contents of her supply box quietly and carefully. There’s a lull in the amount of patients currently, and he’s glad to see her taking a break. He’s also free from strategy meetings for the next hour, so finally, they have some time together outside of the unholy hours of the early morning. He’s brought her food, but quickly becomes embarrassed at his calling it a “meal,” because Tatiana gives it a rather amused look.

“I-” He holds a slightly-stale slice of bread in one hand, balanced next to half-an-apple, and a skin of water in his other. “I know it isn’t really a meal, but, well, this is all that there was.”

“Did you eat?” she asks.

“An hour or so ago, during a meeting.” Zeke sets the food down for her, grunting as he eases himself down onto the hard ground of the tent. “What are you doing?”

“Organizing,” she responds. She picks up the apple-half and eats it fairly quickly before continuing. “I heard rumors that the next battalion we’ll meet on the road uses poisoned weapons. I’m getting my ingredients in order.”

“Smart,” he replies, and then he waits for her to also finish the slice of bread before asking, “Have you been alright?”

Tatiana picks up the water skin and fiddles with the lid. “Why?”

He thinks of the rather hurtful comment he overheard walking to the designated training grounds earlier, a woman quietly whispering to her friends something along the lines of, “Rigelian clergy must all be psychotic!”

“No reason,” Zeke says. “It’s just my job to look after you, so of course I would ask.”

She takes a swig, screws the lid back on, and tilts her head back for a kiss. He gives it to her, relieved that she is smiling normally when they both pull back.

“I’m fine,” Tatiana says, so he believes her.

* * *

 

Zeke cannot tolerate the gossip and sneering Zofians any longer, and his frustration manifests itself in many places. He snaps at Clive during meetings for every little comment about Rigelian forces that could possibly be interpreted wrong, scolds soldiers unnecessarily if they look at him wrong, and even sleeps with his back to Tatiana during the night out of guilt. Guilt that he is keeping all of these awful words from her, and he starts wondering if her not knowing really is for the best.

He finally says something to the Zofians after a while, after a little scrap for a small fort on the edge of a forest. Zeke could have taken the fort himself, the fight was so simple. People are bustling around, checking for supplies within the stone walls, looking for places to sleep away from the cold, late-winter wind. He and Tatiana have finished pitching their tent in a corner of the fort, where the wind won’t bother them, and they’ll be able to sleep in a warm, halfway comfortable environment for the first time in a long while. He leaves her there for a while to rest while he goes to peruse the camp.

He finally says something when he goes to get a few scraps of food from the supply caravan, when he passes a group of soldiers, huddled by the walls to hide from the wind. He doesn’t pay them any mind, not until he passes and hears, “Gods, can you believe Rigelians deal with this cold? They really must be subhuman if they can deal with this.”

He has the hood of his cloak up, and they don’t know General Ezekiel is walking by. Zeke grits his teeth, clenches his fists, but keeps walking. It’s not worth it, it’s not worth it, it’s not-

“That one Rigelian girl, the cleric? You know, I say that she-”

He doesn’t want to hear what they say next, so he stops in his tracks. He grabs the edge of his hood, snaps it back, turns on his heel, and strides back towards the group. A voice in the back of his mind says, “No, no, don’t get involved, let them have their wrong opinions, they’re not hurting Tatiana directly-” but he ignores it. He balls up his fists and forgets the food in the caravan and determines to finally give someone a piece of his mind.

“Do you have something to say?” Zeke asks when he gets close enough.

The group jumps, and one woman immediately walks away at the sight of him.

Zeke narrows his eyes and steps closer, placing his hands behind his back and drawing himself up to his full height. “Do you have a problem with Rigelians?”

One man scoffs and steps forward to meet him, and Zeke is rather impressed that he has the balls. “You're a foreigner, so you don't get it. Rigelian are all a bunch of lowlife savages. It isn’t wrong to state a fact, right?”

Zeke stares the man in the eye. The rest of the group is slowly moving back, feet crunching through the snow. “Watch your mouth. I was a Rigelian general, and I am in love with a Rigelian woman. The same woman that you seem to have taken a dislike to. Tell me, what were you about to say about her?”

The intimidation doesn’t seem to cow the man any. He only scoffs and waves a hand, leaning back against the wall of the fort like he’s having a casual conversation. “Please, that woman's just clinging to you for her own selfish reasons. Rigelian women aren't loyal. They'll cling to a man for protection and security, but you’d best believe they’ll be in everyone else’s bed at night.”

Zeke’s hand twitches. He presses his mouth into a tight line. He hears his blood roaring in his ears, and tries to keep his temper, but it’s gone, completely gone, after weeks of it slowly slipping away. “Well, my my, you seem to have quite the insider’s perspective on this subject. May I assume that you’ve shared a bed with a few of these scandalous Rigelian women?”

The group behind the man titters with amusement, a collection of “Ohhhhs” coming from a few of them. They seem amused by the banter, not really that aware of how close their general is coming to beating all of them into the ground.

The man turns red, jaw clenching, and then he grins like he has just thought of something great. “Yeah, you know, I was boning that slutty little whore of y-!”

He doesn't finish his sentence before Zeke has smashed him into the wall. He is ashamed to admit that he loses his grasp on what it is that he's actually doing. He knows he's ruthlessly beating the man’s face in, slamming his fists against his nose and jaw and smashing his head back against the wall. He knows he's getting banged up himself as the man desperately lashes out, but beyond that? It's a blank. He’s nothing but pure, complete rage.

He remembers himself when a familiar touch lands on him, a dismayed voice crying out, “Stop, stop, Zeke!” and whips his head around to find Tatiana clinging to him desperately.

“What are you doing?” she snaps, and she pulls him back with all her strength. “You're hurting him!”

“Let go,” he says, and he shoulders her away. His nose is bleeding, so he swipes up the mess. “I’m teaching him a lesson in proper respect!”

There is the sound of boots in the snow then, a powerful presence, and Mathilda’s voice demands, “What is going on here?”

His fellow general is standing behind them, hands on her hips, eyes darting from one party to the other. She’s slightly flushed with anger, and even Zeke grimaces at the fact. Mathilda is the only person he’s ever known who can go toe-to-toe with him, and he doesn’t really fancy being on her bad side. Regardless, he doesn’t respond, instead glaring at the red-splattered snow below.

“I apologize,” Tatiana immediately says. “I don’t know- I’m just-”

“This lowlife jumped me!” the soldier snaps. “I’ll see him disciplined, Lady Mathilda, and his companion as well.”

Zeke steps forward. “You son of a-!”

“Stop!” Tatiana grabs him again, digging her heels into the frozen ground to hold him back.

He grimaces and stops, drawing back and allowing her to step in front of him, her hands on his chest imploringly. He looks down into her face, and he finds anger, mostly, but also confusion, maybe some fear. He forces his body to relax, even though it’s hard, and lifts a hand up to her face, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Guilt washes over him as she turns her cheek from his touch, and he frowns.

“That’s right, let your woman control you,” the soldier taunts. “I’m shocked to see such a savage step between the violence, however.”

Tatiana flinches and glances over her shoulder at the man.

He seems bolstered by her reaction and her eye contact, so he continues. “Shouldn’t you be egging him on, darling? Don’t your people just love bloodshed and violence? Doesn’t a good fight get your blood pumping? You subhuman-”

“That is enough!” Mathilda stalks forward, snatching the man’s face between a hand, and she jerks his head towards her. Her cheeks are red, and Zeke wonders if he has ever seen her so mad. “You shut up!”

“L-Lady Mathilda-!”

“We will have none of this bigotry in our army,” she snaps. “Zofian? Rigelian? There is no difference!”

“But- but she’s _Rigelian_!”

“And you are a pompous, loud-mouthed flea of a man,” Mathilda counters, and she squeezes his face tighter. “Once you are even half as useful as Miss Tatiana is to this army, then you may make judgements on her character. Until then, you will keep your mouth shut, your head down, and your disgusting opinions to yourself. Am I clear?”

The man does nothing but stare Mathilda in the eye, his face turning viciously purple with anger.

“Am I clear?!”

He jumps at her raise of voice and lowers his eyes, nodding vigorously. “General! Yes, General Mathilda!”

Mathilda releases him, and then turns to face Zeke and Tatiana. “Tatiana, you take Ezekiel for a walk. Get that blood on his face mopped up. We can’t let our soldiers know that our best general was wailing on one of his officers, like he was a participant in some common tavern brawl.”

Zeke glares at Mathilda, ready to shoot back an equally witty remark, but Tatiana starts to push on him. He turns, gives the scolded, bruising soldier one more threatening glance, and lets her push him back towards their tent. He ducks his face into a hand, covering his bleeding nose, but they still get suspicious glances. Even Alm comes out of his tent to see what the commotion is about.

Alm stares at them while they pass. “Everything alright?”

Zeke digs his heels into the ground, Tatiana bumping uselessly against him. “Alm, I need to speak with you later.”

“Why?”

Tatiana pushes against him. “No, it’s fine, let’s go.”

“It is not fine,” he insists, and he calls out, “We must speak later!” one last time while she moves him along.

When they enter their tent, Zeke immediately sits heavily on the cot, putting his elbows on his knees and refusing to look at Tatiana. She doesn’t react to the slight outburst, instead busying herself with her medicine chest, pulling out a bottle of ointment, a rag, a couple of other items, and she doesn’t say anything for a long time.

“You should not have stopped me,” he mumbles.

“You have anger issues sometimes,” is all she says back, and the comment stings him. “You lose yourself in these _fits,_ and I-”

“It’s only when the issue pertains to you,” he mumbles in reply, and then he says, louder, “You should have heard what that man was saying about you. It was indescribable.”

Tatiana comes to stand next to him, and she leans down to mop up the blood on his face with a handkerchief. “Look, you’ve made a mess of yourself.”

He takes it from her and gingerly wipes up all the crimson, watching as she douses another, heavier cloth in whatever potion she has. It reeks, and it stings violently when she puts it against his nose, but he can feel all his muscles relaxing and all his wounds mending under its touch.

“Here we are,” she mumbles absently. “You can’t fight anyone, okay? We have to get along with the Zofians.”

“He was insulting you,” Zeke shoots back. “Rigelians as a whole. Would you have me sit back and allow that slander?”

Tatiana frowns, an unusual sight, and dabs the cloth at his cheek.

“You do not know what they say of you. How am I to allow them to say such awful things about the woman I love?”

“Ezekiel,” she says warningly.

Zeke stands abruptly, pacing the length of the tent and rubbing his bruising jaw. “They say that-”

“I know what they say!” she bursts out suddenly, and he freezes. Her face is turning scarlet with an intense emotion––sadness, anger, panic, he doesn’t know––and she throws the cloth down with a huff. “I know what they say, alright? That I’m a savage, a demon-worshipping whore, okay?”

“Tatiana-”

“I know that they say that I’m a promiscuous harlot, because _all_ Rigelian women are, _sure._ You wanna know how I know that, Ezekiel?”

He moves towards her. “Now, Tatiana-”

“It’s because they say it right to my face!” Her sweet voice is raised in a near shriek. “They aren’t trying to say it behind my back; they’re saying it right to me, when _your_ back is turned. I had a knight spit at me while I tried to tend to her wounds and call me a demon. A cleric legitimately thought I would murder her during her prayers, and she told me so. For the gods’ sake, I had a man the other night try to _pay_ me to have sex with him!”

“Why did you not tell me?” he snaps at her. “Especially about this man; point me in his direction and I’ll gut him, I swear I will.”

“Because I don’t want you to,” she cries, and she buries her face in her hands. “I want to fix my own problems! I don’t want everyone to think I’m the type of girl who goes crying to her man and has him fix everything for her.”

“That is not what people will think,” he assures, but he doesn’t know if he’s telling her the truth.

Her shoulders start shaking, and she sniffles as she presses her eyes against the back of her hand. “They already look down on me, because I can’t fight that well, and I’m just some village bumpkin. They just don’t say stuff when you’re around, because they know you’ll beat them up, like you just did with that man.”

“Tatiana, I wish you wouldn’t worry so about what people think.”

“You’re the one who’s worried,” she snaps back. “If you were really half as composed as you like to think you are, you wouldn’t have smashed that man’s face in!”

Zeke bites his tongue, irritated that he cannot argue what she says. “I’m just sick of it.”

Tatiana stares up at him for a moment, eyes watering, and then she completely breaks down. She starts sobbing in earnest, walking past him to sit on the cot, and hides her face. He feels guilty instantly, because if he’s sick of hearing these comments in passing, then how must she feel, being berated, judged, spat at, and propositioned by absolute strangers to her face? How must she feel, having been blatantly abused by foreigners, invaders on her home soil, for weeks now?

“I didn’t want you to know,” she cries. “I didn’t want you to worry. But you knew all this time, and you thought _I_ didn’t know, and- and-”

Looking at her now, sobbing her eyes out while they sit in the cold, in the middle of nowhere, Zeke wants to disobey Rudolf. He wants to pack their things, take Tatiana, and leave the Zofians to fend for themselves. If they cannot be kind and respect what means the most to him, they don’t deserve his lance. If they cannot respect Tatiana, they do not deserve her healing touch and medical knowledge.

But they’re miles and miles away from home, almost all the way across the damned country from their seashore village, and they can’t leave.

“Tatiana,” he whispers. He crouches in front of her and puts a hand on her knee. “Darling. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she just about shouts. “I just- I want people to stop calling me things, and saying bad stuff about Rigel, and I just want some _respect._ Is that so much to ask for?”

“It shouldn’t be,” Zeke replies quietly.

Tatiana takes a shaking breath and lowers her hands from her face. She takes a shaking breath, then continues. “It makes me mad.”

“I know.”

“I spend all of my time healing and cleaning and cooking––I do a lot of stuff around here! I- I try to make things easier for everyone, and my thanks? I get men asking me to spread my legs for them. I get called a whore and a devil-worshipper. I have to sit here and listen to my people, my entire culture, be slandered and mocked!”

“I’m upset as well.”

She stands abruptly, tears still dripping from her eyes, but now they’re angry instead of distraught. She clenches her fists, grits her teeth, and Zeke watches her as he stands as well. “They can’t just accept our help and then treat us like this!”

“I agree.”

She sighs and lets her arms fall limp at her sides. “But we can’t just go home now.”

He reaches out and rests a hand on her head. “No. We cannot. I’m sorry, sweetness.”

Tatiana sniffles. He sighs and opens up his arms to her, and as she falls against him, kisses the top of her head, and whispers to her in a gentle croon (“Darling one, be at peace. It’s fine. Stop your tears, precious.”). He rubs a hand up and down her back, trying to calm her as she shakes. It takes a long while before she stops hiccuping and quietly crying, and when she does, she glances up at him.

“We can’t make them stop,” she mutters.

Zeke takes a long, heavy sigh and puts his chin on the top of her head. “No, dear.”

She puts her head to his chest. “I can’t… make them think any differently?”

He tightens his grip. “If you being so wonderful thus far hasn’t changed any minds, I think they all willingly have their heads stuck in the mud. You just simply have to grin and bear. But also, if you refuse to come to me, then I must insist you stand up for yourself.”

She shakes her head against him.

“Yes,” he insists. “Listen, if they’re already going to think you’re a terrible person because you’re Rigelian, then standing up for yourself isn’t going to make them think any less of you.”

Tatiana peeks up at him. “I’m not really used to that.”

“If you don’t talk back, I’ll have to beat up another soldier again.” Zeke reaches up and gingerly touches his nose. “And then you’ll have to patch me up again. And then-”

She smiles, but it is weak and there is no laugh. “Alright, fine.”

They’re awkwardly quiet for a moment, and then Zeke mutters, “I’m sorry I never told you that I knew. I thought that ignorance was bliss, but there was never even any ignorance in the first place.”

“You were just trying to protect me,” Tatiana replies. “But if there’s ever another situation like this again, please, just tell me. I’d rather know people are saying bad things about me, I guess. Even if I can’t fix it.”

His nose starts to hurt again after that, and Tatiana spends much of the night dabbing different salves against his skin and washing healing magic over him. She gives a wobbly smile whenever he asks if she is okay, but never replies with words. She has a look in her eye that tells him that she would burst back into tears if she were to speak, so he doesn’t force it. He offers her his embrace if she wants it, kisses her head, and holds her close through the night.

* * *

 

It’s not really like common soldiers can suddenly start getting mouthy with Zeke, no matter how mad they are, so they take it out on Tatiana. It’s a shame, because half of him had been hoping that his outburst would have been a deterrent. That it would have made people too afraid to say anything, no matter how much they thought it.

Instead, it just gets worse. Nobody bothers to hide the abuse from him anymore. They shoulder Tatiana aside rudely when they walk past her. They openly mock her, jabbing fingers into her chest and sneering, even if they know he is around. They loudly comment on how subhuman and lowly Rigelians are, to the point where it starts to make more people than just Tatiana uncomfortable.

It carries on like this for another week to the point where Zeke is tempted to risk Mathilda’s wrath again if it means he can give half of the camp a piece of his mind. Tatiana comes back to the tent in tears frequently, dismayed and hurt, and he can’t take it. Why should he have to take it? Why should she have to put up with any of this when she is nothing but sunshine and perfection?

He walks out of the supply tent, finished with taking inventory reports for Lukas to go over. He’d left Tatiana outside to wait for him so they could perhaps take a meal together when he finished. She’s right where he left her, sitting on a makeshift bench, but she is not alone. She has a soldier on either side of her: A woman on her right, the man he’d ruthlessly beaten on her left. She stares ahead and doesn’t acknowledge them, even though they elbow her and try to get in her face.

“Just admit that Zofians are better, and we’ll leave this alone,” the woman says. “Come on, just a few words, then this’ll be done.”

Zeke sighs and starts walking towards them, and then he sees it:

The snap in Tatiana’s eyes.

He has seen it maybe only once before, when speaking with Nuibaba or Jerome. Only once, a brief flicker of fire in that naturally calm, amiable gaze that says, “I’m completely done with this and I am completely done with you.”

So he waits.

“I’m not certain as to why that’s so important to you,” Tatiana says sharply. “Are you really so insecure in yourselves that you need to pick on someone’s birthplace to feel good? I didn’t know Zofians were so… frail. Poor things.”

Zeke chokes back a laugh when the two soldiers bristle.

The woman speaks up after a moment, trying to say, “That’s not-”

“I mean, we Rigelians are always confident and sure of ourselves, so it’s unusual for me to see such weak-willed people. I have such great pity for you.”

They flush to their ears.

Tatiana turns her cold glare towards the man. “Don’t think I don’t know about that comment you made to Ezekiel. Where you said that I let you get into bed with me? Don’t flatter yourself.”

The man turns purple and stands abruptly, fists clenched and a scathing remark undoubtedly on his tongue, but he seems frozen, and not a sound leaves him.

Tatiana looks to the woman. “And you? I remember very well all the abuse you showed me when I was fixing you up in the last fight. Next time, I won’t bother healing you. How does slowly bleeding to death sound, all because you couldn’t put your prejudice and arrogance behind you for five minutes?”

She pales.

Tatiana crosses her legs and puts her hands in her lap. “You can leave now. I’m done.”

They don’t move.

She glares at them. “I said that you can leave. And make sure you tell all your other friends that I’m not about to sit down and be mocked any longer. Why not let them all know that I’m on cooking duty tonight, and they should all be very careful about what they eat?”

The two hover for a second longer, and then storm away in a huff. Tatiana watches them go, head held high, and then immediately lets out a sigh and slumps over when Zeke sits down next to her.

“Are you planning on poisoning their food, love?” he asks amusedly.

Tatiana glances up at him and smiles. “I’d never do anything to anyone’s food. But they don’t have to know that. I’m just a big bad Rigelian, after all.”

Zeke puts an arm over her shoulder, squeezing her to him. “Hm. Well, I’m impressed at how sharp you got with them.”

She looks a little guilty and hangs her head. “I didn’t really mean to. I don’t want anyone to think I’m mean or anything. I just got really mad, and-” She takes a heaving sigh and shakes her head. “I know it won’t make them stop. One little outburst won’t fix anything.”

He pulls her hair over her shoulder and smooths it down. “It won’t. But if you keep snapping back like that, it may fix something eventually. And just remember, it’s not like we have to put up with this forever.”

“I still don’t like this,” she mumbles, but then smiles and rests her head on him. “Did you think I was cool? I thought my ‘don’t flatter yourself’ comment was pretty good.”

Zeke rests a hand over his chest. “You made my heart flutter.”

**Author's Note:**

> trying to write Sunshine Incarnate Tanechka being savage?? DIFFICULT


End file.
